


Something Borrowed, Something Bruised

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [36]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bruises, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Idiots in Love, Reunions, Romance, Sunsets, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: His left hand folds around her flank, but his right hand rises, moved by an instinctual curiosity mixed with concern. He curls a finger under Cara's chin, tips her head back and sideways to get a better look at her face and the evidence of the fight she must have had not long before his arrival. He delicately thumbs away a lingering trace of blood by Cara's mouth, saying nothing as he examines her with a disapproving frown. He can almost feel Cara's heart skip a nervous beat as he looks her dead in the eyes. His voice is quiet and tense when he finally speaks, his anger barely restrained.“Who did this to you?”[ Cara never fails to surprise Din whenever he returns to Nevarro. ]
Relationships: Cara Dune/The Mandalorian, Din Djarin/Cara Dune
Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709416
Comments: 18
Kudos: 97





	Something Borrowed, Something Bruised

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Name1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/gifts).



> This was inspired by this Tumblr prompt:
> 
> Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained.  
> “Who did this to you?”

He walks into town like he owns the ground beneath his feet and every single thing built upon it. He knows she's watching and he likes to make a show for her to smirk at and make fun of. As usual, he finds her leaning against the closest building, propped with a hip against the wall with her arms defiantly crossed, and there it is, the smirk that welcomes him back every time and which he will never tire of. He's been anticipating this all week, the moment he would spot that beautiful face waiting for him in the golden light of the setting sun.

She straightens up as he approaches with the kid's locked pram in tow. Her clothes are dirty, her boots lined with mud, her hair is a sweaty mess. Din mentally shakes his head, already imagining how she must have spent the last few hours.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, dimples deepening in her sunburnt cheeks, and Din's heart swells before his brain can process the purple bruise staining her temple and cheekbone. By the look of it, she must have hit her face against some surface.

“Hey,” he greets in return, his tone coming out softer than intended. It's always like this: he just can't pretend he's not ridiculously happy to see her again, and Cara knows.

“Purple looks lovely on you,” he remarks with a nod at her bruise.

Cara tilts her head coyly, sends him a cheeky glance through her lashes. “Always such a charmer, Din.”

She grabs his hips and pulls him closer, teeth digging into the grin curling her bottom lip. For a moment Din forgets what he was about to say, forgets his own name. The things this woman makes him feel with barely one look...

His left hand folds around her flank, but his right hand rises, moved by an instinctual curiosity mixed with concern. He curls a finger under Cara's chin, tips her head back and sideways to get a better look at her face and the evidence of the fight she must have had not long before his arrival. He delicately thumbs away a lingering trace of blood by Cara's mouth, saying nothing as he examines her with a disapproving frown. He can almost feel Cara's heart skip a nervous beat as he looks her dead in the eyes. His voice is quiet and tense when he finally speaks, his anger barely restrained.

“Who did this to you?”

She ducks her head with a carefree laugh, a sound that never fails to spread a warm shiver across Din's body. He can picture the smile she must have worn during the fight that earned her this bruise, identical to the one she's wearing now that she's looking back at him with a glint of pride in her jet black eyes.

“Ask me what I did to _them,”_ she purrs, voice low and husky.

Din lets out a long, heavy sigh that makes her laugh again.

“What? It's just a scratch,” she insists, and, yes, Din can see the faint lines of dried blood across the bruise. Whatever she hit, it scraped her skin, too.

“You just can't stay away from trouble, can you?” he chides, still too softly to be taken seriously. He would never deny her the joy of a good scuffle, but this doesn't mean he likes to see her hurt in any way.

Cara shrugs. “It's trouble that can't stay away from me.”

She's breath-taking, even in this stare, or maybe exactly because of it. Every fancily dressed and made up woman in the galaxy would pale before this dust of freckles and these eyes so bright and clever, watching him like she wants to learn every inch of him all over again. His thumb catches on her lip as he swipes it over it, barely aware of what he's doing.

“Trouble has a point,” he whispers.

A light breeze blows a few damp locks on her face while a chuckle spreads across her mouth.

“Are you saying I'm irresistible?”

Din can't help chuckling back. “Don't put words in my mouth, Dune.”

He knows the very moment the words leave his mouth that he's going to regret the phrasing. Cara doesn't disappoint him: he knows her too well; he was expecting this mischievous grin she's giving him, her inevitable teasing as she presses herself against him and seductively murmurs, “Something else you'd rather have in your mouth?”

“The kid's in there, you know?” he half scoffs, half laughs, prompting a giggle from Cara. She folds her arms around his waist as she does, and rests her good cheek upon his shoulder, sighing softly.

“I was about to propose to buy you dinner,” she says, “but if that's so indecent—”

“That bruise must have been worth its while,” he quips. She never buys, unless she's had a particularly remunerative week. This must be the case.

“It was,” she confirms, lips close to the hem of his helmet. He can feel her smile. “I can tell you everything about it while we eat.”

Din has been looking froward to this: the two of them sitting on the ground on her roof, back to back, sharing food and wine and recounts about their time apart... and everything coming next. Sleeping alone on the Crest has become almost unbearable since he's discovered the pleasure of sleeping in her arms.

Din nuzzles his helmet in her hair imagining he's not wearing it, that his nose can inhale her scent like he does when they're free in the safe darkness of the night.

“I missed you,” he sighs, squeezing her into a crushing embrace. The feeling of her body filling is arms again almost blinds him with overwhelming joy. He savours her for a little longer, holds her close like he couldn't do while he was away, then pulls back and just looks at her to take her in one more time, just to make sure she's real and still here, still his as he is hers.

Cara lets him take his time, because she knows how much he needs this. The way he's drinking her up makes her smile, always does; this is one of the few things she doesn't tease him about, and he's grateful for this.

“Are we about to kiss in the sunset?” she asks while his gloved hands crawl up to her face. He smooths her hair back fondly, wondering how it would be if she could see his face and his expression when he comes back to her. One day, he decides, she will.

“Too sappy?” he asks. There is no one around, only the two of them and the last vestiges of this sunset fading into dusk.

Cara nudges his visor with the tip of her nose, grins sweetly as her hands sneak beneath his helmet and gently lift it while her eyes close.

“Who cares,” she mutters, and suddenly Din's breath is stolen by the softness of her lips capturing his in a hungry, salty kiss that makes him shiver and wrap his arms around her shoulders to tuck her closer, to kiss her deeper, and her arms are around his neck, now, his helmet loosely balanced halfway up his face, and he kind of wants to laugh at how awkward this is, if he wasn't so busy grinning like a completely smitten idiot.

As badly as it hurts to leave, sometimes he thinks it's worth it, just so he can keep coming back.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been brought to my attention that tomorrow is my favourite jelly's birthday so I had to dig up an old WIP and pretend it was conceived specifically as a birthday gift for her. Happy birthday, Squishy ❤
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this quick and improvised birthday present. :) This is my 50th CaraDin fic, BTW! OMG. 😱


End file.
